


On Rescuing

by ricketyjukeboxer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Come play, Finger Sucking, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-10
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2019-01-15 12:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12320943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ricketyjukeboxer/pseuds/ricketyjukeboxer
Summary: Set in the Endverse. Smutty angst.





	On Rescuing

“So.” Dean begins as he follows in past the ridiculous beads that demarcate Cas’ door and living space. “Last night on Earth.”

Turning, a sardonic smirk plastered across wry features, Cas shakes his head. “I forgot how much you love that line. I guess when you’re a Winchester, you have ample opportunity to use it. But that’s not why I invited you back here.”

Dean has the audacity to look innocent. “That’s not what I meant,” he says defensively, the whole room suddenly feeling way too small for the both of them. But part of him knows that’s exactly what he meant. “I mean—of course it isn’t. We might not even die. I’m just—“ he’s stammering now and it’s pathetic. For a few beats, Cas observes him floundering, unwilling to rescue him from his own absurdity. “Have we…?” Dean finally asks, gesturing between the two of them.

“Frequently.”

“Oh.” There’s too much there to unpack, especially with Cas looking at him like that. Dean scrubs his hand back over his hair and then forward through it, uncomfortable. “Why did you invite me back here?”

Cas shrugs. “Like I said, I like past you.” He rummages in a trunk pushed out of the way and pulls out a bottle of Jack Daniels. It must be precious in this future, because Cas cradles it over to the table like it’s worth the world. He pours a glass of it and hands it over to Dean. But when Dean reaches to take it, Cas pulls it back. “Haven’t you thought about it yet?”

“About…”

“About fucking me,” Cas says bluntly.

Dean reaches farther forward to snatch the offering out of Cas’ hand, but Cas holds firm and then they are both holding it, fingers lacing together over the amber-filled, dirty glass. Dean feels his throat go dry. The smile Cas levels against him is devastating, not just because it is handsome and lusty (it is), but because it doesn’t quite reach his eyes and Dean knows how much pain is behind it.

But he doesn’t have time to think much past that because Cas has the liquor away from him, set on the table, and he is in his arms, kissing him like it really is the last night on earth.

Teeth and tongue and vitriol. Dean can hardly stand it, but he doesn’t push Cas away, only clutches him more tightly as he tries to give as much back as he’s getting. Dean is the first to whimper and Cas growls his admonishment as he shoves Dean back against the table and then lifts him onto it. Cas is fury, he is desperation, he is chasing regret down Dean’s throat like the liquor may have if Dean had had the chance to drink it. The bottle tips and rolls to the floor with a clatter. No one pauses to rescue it.

“Fuck,” Dean manages to cry against Cas’ mouth as he tastes blood from the scrape of teeth on his lips.

Cas settles between Dean’s legs and pulls back to stare at him, breathless. A calloused hand reaches up to cup Dean’s cheek, but the gesture isn’t soft and the press of Cas’ thumb against Dean’s bottom lip threatens to tear the skin away. Still, Dean smiles, swallows hard, and laughs. Cas frowns, but softens, leaning in to kiss the sound out of Dean. “I forgot how good your smile tastes,” he says against his lips so sadly that Dean wonders if his future self ever smiles at all. Cas’ anger has been quelled with anguish for the moment and they kiss like this for awhile.

Dean moans when Cas’ hand finds its way past the fly of his jeans, gripping his semi-hard dick and giving it an expert squeeze, like he’s done it a million times before. He would be a liar (he is) if he tried to deny imagining something like this when he looks at his own Castiel. To know what it actually feels like? Dean knows he’s lost the battle.

Hips jerking in time to Cas’ attentions, Dean lets his head tip back, seeking breath and sanity, but hardly finding either. He’s going to lose it this fast if Cas continues. Mercilessly, Cas does and he watches Dean’s face as he comes, spilling hot into Cas’ fist. Immediately, Cas brings the mess to Dean’s mouth, dragging the slick come lewdly across the innocent plush of his lips. Cas pistons his fingers into Dean’s willing mouth before replacing them with his own lips, tongue probing to share the taste. It is Cas’ turn to whimper and he breaks the kiss to drop his forehead to Dean’s shoulder.

“Do you know what the worst part about being human is?” He asks and the words barely make sense to Dean as he comes down from the high. His head swims with disorientation, body still floating. The only anchor tethering him to Earth is the weight of Cas’ hands resting heavily on his thighs. Cas’ voice scrapes it out past ragged breaths. “It’s the way I feel when I look at you.”

The words hit Dean’s gut hard, but the way Cas’ arms snake around Dean’s midsection to cling to him is what breaks him. He can’t find a response.

“Shit,” Cas mutters to himself and his body eases, losing the fight in him as he rolls his face in towards Dean’s neck. He’s going to allow himself this sentimentality, the kind his own Dean would never accept. “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” he starts and the bitterness seeps through the roughness of his voice. “I saved you from your hell, Dean. You have to promise to save me from mine. When you go back to your time…”

Dean shuts his eyes, wishing he could shut his ears. But he would still be able to feel those words etched in hot, desperate breath against his flesh.

“Don’t let me fall for you.” Dean thinks of Anna, becoming human, as he holds the warmth of a very human Castiel against him.

Cas’ last word is punctuated with a sharp intake of breath, defiant against what may become a sob. “Please.”

Carding a hand up through Cas’ hair, Dean knows how much he owes Cas, how much he will probably owe him in the future. So he lies to him and says, “I promise.”


End file.
